


Around and Around

by LacunaChronicles (BabylonsFall)



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: Background Relationships, Friendship, Gen, Introspection, M/M, aka background adamxdetective, post-valentine's day special
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:01:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29795745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/pseuds/LacunaChronicles
Summary: Mason spots a new card on the mantle. And maybe Santi needs to talk around it. (aka friends in for a quiet night and a needed conversation)
Relationships: Male Detective & Mason (The Wayhaven Chronicles), Male Detective/Adam du Mortain
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Around and Around

“New card?”

Santi doesn’t even have to look up to know exactly where Mason is looking. Instead, he just hums, “Mm-hm,” and goes back to his notes. Nate lent him one of the more delicate books from the warehouse on the only half-joking condition that he bring it back the next day.

“Why’s it blank?” And at _that_ Santi does look up, raising an eyebrow. Mason’s not looking at him, sprawled out where he is on the couch, staring thoughtfully at the mantle. The one absolutely covered in layers of cards from Christmases and birthdays long past, as well as a few ‘get well soon’ cards Santi hadn’t quite wanted to throw away, despite their age. And, of course, the small white one with a simple iris on the front.

“And you’d know that because…?” Santi asks, biting back a grin.

“I snooped.” Mason answers back without hesitation, and Santi laughs softly, shaking his head and turning back to his book.

The silence sits for a long moment, broken only by the soft skritch of pencil on paper, but - “So, why’s it blank?”

“Because it’s a copy.” Santi offers without looking back up. He can _feel_ Mason staring at him now. “The original is somewhere else.” Specifically, tucked into the nightstand in his room in the warehouse. But Mason didn’t need to know that - though Santi was pretty sure he had a sneaking suspicion.

“From…?” A small nod, “...Uh-huh. No new tables, so... he hasn’t seen it yet?”

“He’s not over here as often as you.” It’s not an accusation - not in the slightest - but Mason seems to take it as one, if the way he slumps down further into the couch likes he’s claiming it is anything to go by.

“It’s quieter than the warehouse.” Is his defense, well worn and unneeded, but Santi knows that’s only part of it. The warehouse is too big to ever be completely full of noise, or completely quiet. It’s a...weird space, if you’re in a certain frame of mind. Too much empty space that wants to be filled, too many little creaks and echoes of a lived in space stretched too thin...it’s an odd mix sometimes.

Mason had started showing up at his place once things started calming down for a bit, and Santi wasn’t going to turn him away. At some point he’d half spit out, defensively, that Santi’s place could be quiet without being empty, and full without being claustrophobic. Santi had taken it as the compliment it was and just gave him a key he didn’t need.

There’d been a look, across the conference table, when Santi had done that - sharp green eyes watching closely, curiously, but all too silently.

Shaking his head at the memory, Santi tries to turn his attention back to the book, but he gets the feeling he’s done for the night. The hand-inked pages are starting to blur together in the dim glow of the table lamp, and his hand-writing is starting to slant and meld in a way he knows from experience is a pain to decode later. Sighing softly, he gently closes the book and sets it safely on the side table next to the armchair he’s currently curled up in. Nate would let him have it one more night. Maybe.

When he glances up after scrubbing at his eyes, he finds Mason watching him again, grey eyes focused in a way that generally means either Santi or Nate are not going to like what they’re going to hear next.

“Why do you do it?” Yep. Don’t like that.

“I’ve told you why.” And he has, a couple times now. Mason is a surprisingly good listener when he wants to be.

There’s a soft snort, Mason shaking his head, “No, you really haven’t. You’ve talked around it.” 

Santi glares at him, with no heat because that would require energy, and they both know he’s right. “Then ask an actual question.”

And that’s part of this too - this back and forth. Mason doesn’t let Santi lie - but Santi doesn’t let Mason talk in circles either. If they’re going to talk about feelings, he’s going to make Mason spell it out.

It’s a comfortable rhythm, and one that Santi’s pretty sure he would’ve gone crazy without by now.

Mason smirks at him, “Fine. His card’s on the mantle, you have four of his jackets that you’ve stolen,”

“‘Stolen’ implies he didn’t just give them to me and never asked for them back.” Santi mutters, glancing at one of those said jackets currently laying on the back of the couch.

“Four jackets that you’ve _kept_ , and every time you so much as _look_ at each other, Jane Austen spins in her grave. But that’s as far as you push. Why?”

“...Nate have you read those?”

“No, but he quotes them regularly.”

“Uh-huh. Take it when we leave them room?”

“Duh.”

Yeah, he’s keeping the book for another night, at least.

Sighing softly, Santi rests his chin on his knee, working over the answer stuck to the back of his teeth. Because he has one. It just never quite comes out right - sticking in his lungs and scraping the back of his teeth in a way that threatens to choke him.

“We know it’s there. He doesn’t admit it often, but he does admit it, if you know where to look. But pushing for anything more that’s not ready to give? That’s a damn good way to break something before it’s ready to bend.”

Mason’s quiet then, thinking it over. He’s still focused on Santi though, and Santi has a sneaking suspicion he’s not going to like the next part either.

“Okay. But how long can you keep reaching before you snap too?”

Santi sighs, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You make it sound like I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s not...it’s not a _hardship_ or anything.” He smiles slightly, and though he knows Mason doesn’t quite believe him, the smile is genuine. “Oh come on. You’ve never waited for something because you knew in the end it’d be that much better?” He snaps up a hand almost before Mason can even open his mouth, pointing a finger in response to his completely unrepentant smirk, “Don’t even. You know what I mean.”

And Mason takes that - works it over for a long moment, before glancing back at the mantle. At the card. Then he hums softly and settles back down into the couch, “Just...don’t walk off an edge you’re not watching.”

“I do, you’re gonna hear all about it.”

And that gets a genuine laugh, only just colored around the edges by something that sounds a lot like melancholy. “Deal.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can find my other Wayhaven nonsense [here](https://chroniclesinlacuna.tumblr.com/) 💛


End file.
